wn
sentiments exactly under similar circumstances. You will, however, not
find a good income a bar to marital happiness if used judiciously. But
enough of financial matters; I wish to come to another more important
point. I believe it that Dolores loves you; from my own observations I
believe she does, but I must hear it from her own lips.

"Should it prove to be the case, which I do not doubt, then I will give
my consent to your marriage."

I rushed forward joyfully to thank him, for I knew what Dolores' answer
would be, but he held up his finger to check me.

"I will give my consent under those circumstances," he continued, "on
_one_ condition."

"And that?" I asked eagerly.

He did not answer me at once; he sat in his chair, with his hand to his
forehead, thinking.

Then he lifted his head.

"Sit down and listen to me, Anstruther," he said; "I want you to follow
exactly what I say.

"When you arrived in Valoro six weeks ago, and gave me that casket, you
reopened an episode in my life closed many many years ago."

He spoke with great emotion and his lip trembled. I even saw a tear
coursing down his sunburnt cheek.

"Since then," he continued, "you have very kindly followed me in the
fulfilment of certain duties which devolved upon me upon opening that
packet. You have followed me without question, as became a gentleman,
taking an old man's word that all was well. In keeping that silence of
delicacy, Anstruther, you have unwittingly done me a great service; you
have left me unhampered to fulfil that which I had to do."

He paused and placed his fingers together in deep thought.

"I place myself mentally," he continued, "in your position, and I try
to think as you think--try to realise your feelings: the appeal you
received from the old lady as she stood at the door of the house in
Monmouth Street, your acceding to her request, your second visit, the
discovery of the tragedy, the undeserved misfortunes that fell upon you
in consequence, your fidelity to your promise to the lady who was at
best a mere chance acquaintance, the impenetrable mystery which
surrounds it all.

"I have thought of it, and I feel that you must be consumed with a
great and reasonable curiosity.

"That you have not indulged that reasonable curiosity, that you have
maintained a discreet silence under very trying circumstances has
caused a very good first impression of you to grow into one of respect
and strong regard."

He